


Free Fall

by LadyAJ_13



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, falling off things, getting trapped under things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 14:57:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1609253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAJ_13/pseuds/LadyAJ_13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a team, they spend a disturbing amount of time in free fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free Fall

As a team, they spend a disturbing amount of time in free fall. It bothers Steve. He's seen too many friends – one too many – fall and stay down.

 

\--

“Hawkeye down, someone catch hi-“ Before Steve can finish his sentence a red and gold blur has snatched the archer out of the sky. He drops him on a neighbouring building, hovers in mid-air while saluting Steve, and then bombs back down 32nd street to the epicentre of the attack.

It isn’t always Clint. It often is though, admittedly. He’s the one most often stationed on rooftops and somehow they manage to have a surprising number of airborne foes.

 

\--

The muscly, slimy tentacle grabs Natasha from the ground and flings her high in the air. Luckily, Steve runs backwards quickly enough to catch her, sweeping her round bridal style to absorb the impact.

He sets her on her feet and she’s off – back into the fray without even a glance back.

It’s unusual for Natasha to become airborne; she fights on the ground and can evade most attackers easily, slipping through holds that look impossible to break. It takes Steve a second to shrug off the icy touch of fear and get back to work.

 

\--

It isn’t often that Bruce falls – the Hulk can cross ten city blocks in a single bound – so when he does it’s planned. A dive off the helicarrier and the Hulk is on the scene of the latest villain’s attack even before Iron Man.

 

\--

The sky is stormy; clouds are gathering and there’s a distinct tang on the air that suggests lightning is coming. Thor.

“Brother Steven!” The Norse god lands lightly on his feet, swings his hammer and clears away the pack of lizard-like monster hybrids Steve had been trying to take down for the last ten minutes. “It is truly good to see you again.”

It's only been a few weeks since Thor left New York to see Jane, but ok. Steve smiles in reply and they split up to take on the lizards on two fronts. He doesn't see him again until the battle is over. The Hulk gives Thor what he probably thinks is a friendly tap, and the god flies sideways into a crumbling office block wall. Steve freezes; watches until he emerges, laughing and brushing concrete dust from his hair.

 

\--

It actually took a second to reconcile the thud of a metal leg hitting his chest with the feeling of air whizzing past and compute that he was falling.

Then time slowed down; he saw the ground below and the rooftop above and calculated that he could withstand falling from that height. His current velocity would result in broken bones; he’d be out of this fight, but back with the team in a week thanks to the super serum. Huh – that ground was pretty close – rushing towards him – he braced himself – the serum didn’t stop the pain – and now –

It was rushing away from him. He registered a strong metal arm in red and gold branding around his waist and guessed that Tony had pulled him out of his fall at the last minute. Also, he couldn’t breathe. Interesting to know he could still be winded.

Tony landed around a corner from the main action and set him gently on his feet. “Can’t have you smashing in that pretty face, Cap,” he joked, but the way he kept his hand on Steve’s shoulder as he gasped for breath betrayed his worry.

A sound made Tony spin around. In the mouth of the alley, three metal ant-like beings intent on destroying Manhattan (why always Manhattan?) were ticking and whirring to each other, readying to fight. Steve grasped his shield more tightly, but his lungs were burning and he couldn’t stand up straight. Three quick repulsor blasts echoed in his ears as his breathing – finally – started to even out. He glanced up to see Tony facing away from him, right hand raised in his trademark battle-ready position.

“Tony,” he croaked.

“Iron Man,” Tony corrected, although even through the voice modulators there was a hint of teasing. “No real names on the battlefield.”

Steve cleared his throat – he could imagine the smirk Tony would be wearing right now, behind that stoic mask. “I’m fine now,” he asserted, standing straight and pulling his shield round to rest in front of him. Tony glanced him up and down, then nodded.

“I’ll leave you here, Cap,” he said, taking off. “It’s much safer on the ground!”

 

\--

Steve has watched his team fall off many a high spot, both planned and unplanned. He's taken a few dives himself, but he can’t help but see Bucky every time. They haven’t lost anyone yet; have become remarkably smooth at catching falling teammates, in fact. Still, every time there’s that cold grasp in his stomach, like an Ice Giant has reached in and snagged a handful of intestine.

And when Iron Man plummets… well, that brings him right back to the beginning. He didn’t even like Tony back then. Steve would have said they tolerated each other, while Fury would have said that was too strong a word. But he always looked back on that moment as the first time they felt like a team. They all thought Tony had gone, and then that speck of red high up in the sky became visible – Hulk had proved he thought them worth saving, that there was something of Bruce deep within the rage – and then that voice, asking who kissed him.

He tears rubble apart faster than he should. He's not invincible, and as he strains to lift the steel rigging encased in concrete he can feel his muscles starting to give. Luckily, the building gives way before he does and he can see down. See the motionless Iron Man trapped under half a city block below.

The armour is strong, made to measure metal but that’s all it is – metal – inside Tony’s essentially a soft squishy part hitting the sides of a tin can. A soft squishy part that isn't responding on the comms. He tries again anyway.

“Tony,” he says urgently, not caring about the stupid real-names rule right now. “Tony, I'm right above you, can you see me?” Anything, say anything Tony. Relate the plot of that Spanish soap opera you pretend to hate but have running at all hours of the day on the lab screens – anything, really. “Medical help is coming, Tony,” he adds. Ask who kissed you, who will kiss you. I'll kiss you Tony, if you just _answer me._

“Cap?” There's a light touch on his shoulder – Natasha has brought along the SHIELD medics. 

“He's still trapped,” right, that's it, focus – give the report. “We'll need to get him out – I can't in good conscience let you go down there, we're not sure it's safe.” Distantly he hears the shifting of rubble and knows Thor and Clint are still working away. Having located the medical staff, he notices Natasha joining them, helping Clint to move a large boulder of wall.

“I can get down there Cap,” says Natasha. Her hands are scraped and bleeding but she doesn't seem to have noticed. It's true, what she says; the gap they've cleared is small but easily big enough for her to slip through. He shakes his head. “Tony may not have that long,” she says. As if he doesn't know, as if he doesn't _care,_ but he can't sacrifice her to save him.

“You're not going down there, Widow. That's an order.”

He heaves another piece of rubble and miraculously, the hole is bigger now. He shoves some smaller pieces to the side, not worried about getting them off right now, just about clearing some space. Yes; that's enough.

He drops down through the gap and braces himself for the landing. Hoping he's judged it right. He has – one foot either side of the Iron Man suit. He crouches down – there's not much head room unless he stands straight up, which isn't a useful position – leans forward so he's almost sitting on Tony's middle, and carefully feels around the helmet. He can feel the join. Its smooth and almost imperceptible, but he knows how the helmet fits together. He watched Tony create this particular model and if he pulls here – with all his Super Soldier strength – he'll see what's below. Now that he's here, he's not sure he wants to. So he closes his eyes when he pulls.

“Took you long enough, I thought you were going to sit there all day – not that I mind, we should do this again sometime – but I can think of more salubrious locations than underneath most of New Y-”

He'd overheard Pepper telling Natasha one time that the only way to shut Tony up was to kiss him – and that even that wasn't guaranteed. Natasha had said she preferred the ball-twisting approach and they'd both laughed. It was near the end of their relationship, and apparently Tony had been annoying Pepper that day.

“-ork,” finishes Tony, with a grin. “I was just mouthing off, but if its like that we should _definitely_ do this again sometime-”

“-It's like that,” Steve breaks in. He doesn't want there to be any chance of confusion, or any chance of Tony babbling on to a different subject before he can make sure.

“Great,” answers Tony. He's still grinning, and Steve can't quite help but smile back. It's infectious, despite the fact that they're still underground, Tony's still pinned, and worried voices are filtering down from street level. He realises, a little late, that he's blocking everyone's line of sight to Tony. 

“He's fine!” he calls over his shoulder. He can just see Natasha up above; at his smile she smirks and starts herding people away. 

“We'll get them out from here, no need for everyone to stick around...” he hears faintly.

“You're fine right?” he asks. Tony's face is undamaged and he's okay enough to talk and kiss and smile, but he can't see under the suit.

“Right as rain Cap,” he replies. “The suit is pinned and the impact took out the communication systems – I'm going to have serious words with JARVIS for leaving me alone like this – but everything organic is still in working order.” He wiggles his eyebrows and Steve can't help huffing out a laugh. “So how about we get me out of here so I can show you?”

Steve can  _feel_ himself flushing, and its dark down here but he knows Tony can see. He doesn't mind, and flushes darker at the thought. “Sounds good,” he manages.

“Alright lovebirds, make yourself decent,” a head pops down between them, upside down. Steve starts, then recognises Clint, hanging on a rope from the hole at street-level like an overgrown bat. He's grinning. “Took you long enough to sort yourselves out – Nat told me about the sexual tension from your first meeting on the helicarrier, wowza, and it's only been getting worse – but there's a time and a place and 3.30pm underneath a New York office building is not it.” 

Clint uses Steve's head and back as a launching point and swings himself over to Tony's feet. He's carrying an electric saw and makes short work of the rubble still pinning Tony in place.

“We'll have to go out one by one,” he says, tugging on his rope three times. “Me, then you Steve, and Tony you're last.”

He's winched out of sight before either of them can reply, then the rope is lowered once again. Steve shrugs, takes it, and is hauled out. He stands nervously on the ruined street while Tony – the heaviest of the lot in full armour – is slowly dragged to the surface.

“Mr Stark, you will need to attend a SHIELD medical facility,” a smartly dressed woman with a clipboard – and just where had she been, to look that clean after a battle – has got in-between them but Tony sweeps her gently to one side where she's corralled away by Natasha. The armour is dusty and dented. More metal glints through than paint job remains, and there are tiny cuts to Tony's forehead that he hadn't seen in the dim underground light. 

“So...” its strange for Tony to be without words, but he heaves a deep breath in and rallies. “If its still like that up here in the real world, I believe I promised you a salubrious location to sit on my stomach. Perhaps Zachary's first, then my penthouse?”

Steve smiles and throws an arm around Tony's waist. It's hard and unyielding, and Steve brushes a finger gently across the battered tin can that keeps his all-too-squishy Tony safe in the hell-storms they find themselves in, week after week. “Yeah,” he says softly. “It's still like that.”


End file.
